The vanity in me was stung by her words. "I'm not such a boy neither, and Angelo judged me a good pupil. You might find a worse champion." "Oh, it iss the good friend you are to me, and I am loving you for it, but I think of what may happen to you." My pulse leaped and my eyes burned, but I answered lightly, "For a change think of what may happen to him, and maybe to pass the time you might put up a bit prayer for me." "Believe me, I will be doing that same," she cried with shining eyes, and before I divined her intent had stooped to kiss my hand that rested on the coach door. My heart lilted as I crossed the heath to where the others were waiting for me beyond the dip of the hillock. "Faith, I began to think you had forgotten me and gone off with the lady yourself," laughed Volney. I flung off my cloak and my inner coat, for though the night was chill I knew I should be warm enough when once we got to work. Then, strangely enough, an unaccountable reluctance to engage came over me, and I stood tracing figures on the heath with the point of my small sword. "Are you ready?" asked the baronet. I broke out impetuously. "Sir Robert, you have ruined many. Your victims are to be counted by the score. I myself am one. But this girl shall not be added to the list. I have sworn it; so have my friends. There is still time for you to leave unhurt if you desire it, but if we once cross swords one of us must die." "And, prithee, Mr. Montagu, why came we here?" "Yet even now if you will desist----" His caustic insolent laugh rang out gaily as he mouthed the speech of Tybalt in actor fashion. "'What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagus, and thee; Have at thee, coward.'" I drew back from his playful lunge. "Very well. Have it your own way. But you must have some one to act for you. Perhaps Captain Mac--er--the gentleman on your right--will second you." Donald Roy drew himself up haughtily. "Feint a bit of it! I'm on the other side of the dyke. Man, Montagu! I'm wondering at you, and him wronging a Hieland lassie. Gin he waits till I stand back of him he'll go wantin', ye may lippen (trust) to that." "Then it'll have to be you, Tony," I said, turning to Creagh. "Guard, Sir Robert!" "'Sdeath! You're getting in a hurry, Mr. Montagu. I see you're keen after that 'Hic Jacet' I promised you. Lard! I vow you shall have it."